The Kissing Booth Debacle of 1976
by paperpotter
Summary: In which James has an admittedly horrible plan to win Lily Evans, Remus smirks, Sirius is an unwilling conspirator, and Peter would like to say he did not want to be a part of this at all.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, this is sort of a Valentine's Day mini-fic that was inspired by the Glee episode "Silly Love Songs", during the part where Finn sets up a kissing booth. That's about it, I guess. Enjoy!

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_kiss (def.): touch with the lips as a sign of love, sexual desire, reverence, or greeting._

Kissing is something that is revered, all around the world. For couples, it is an important step in their relationship, one that may make or break them. For others, a kiss is a source of great anxiety, especially if they are or believe to be the only ones in their group of friends who have never been kissed (see also: The Great Breakdown of James Potter, circa 1974). Sometimes, a kiss is "stolen" or does not match up to one's (extremely high) expectations, and will be attempted to be forgotten by both individuals (aka. Marlene McKinnon and Sirius Black). And, a kiss may be a source of money.

_kissing booth (def.): A kissing booth is a carnival attraction where the person running the booth kisses customers for money, often to raise funds for charity._

A charity is also something that may be defined, although in different ways. Some prominent examples are the _Janus Thickey Foundation for Dragon-Pox Addled Wizards_, the_ Helga Hufflepuff Foundation for the Needy_, and the _Mungo Bonham Project_.

A charity usually has a cause, at its heart, perhaps a difficult problem. Charity may be something given to people who are poor or in need. The word charity is actually from a Latin word meaning "generous love". In this case, the charity was James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and the cause was four tickets to the 1978 Quidditch World Cup.

The idea was brought up one cold February day by James Potter, after a round of suggestions to raise money for their tickets to the cup, as the Potters had kindly explained that while a trip to Germany would certainly be nice, the cup was still two years away, and "Who knows what may have happened by then. Why, perhaps the world will be run by Kneazles!" While James had said that his father was joking, the point still stood that the Potters had steadfastly refused to purchase tickets.

After Remus's suggestion that they could always wait until 1982 to go see the cup (which was shut down quickly), ideas such as an illegal potions sale (complete with watered-down Amortentia and a blend of Gillyweed and pumpkin juice), an impromptu Quidditch match with a four Galleon entry fee ("No one wants to see you swing bludgers at imaginary objects, Sirius."), and a bake sale (contributed by a lackluster Peter, who was actually close to siding with Remus after hearing James's lewd and admittedly quite perverted suggestions) had been tossed around.

Finally, James had his moment of brilliance (or, more accurately, stupidity).

"A kissing booth." Remus said flatly. "Really. And who do you expect would come to this kissing booth?"

James looked confused. "Well, every girl in the school, of course. I mean, I'm _James Potter_."

Peter sniggered, and James glared at him. "What's so funny? Who wouldn't want a piece of this?" James ran his hands down his chest in what he assumed to be a seductive gesture, but came out to look more like he was rubbing his stomach.

"Er, James," Peter started, "If you don't mind me saying, I don't think a kissing booth is the best idea. Isn't your goal this year to get Evans to go to Hogsmeade with you on Valentine's Day? I don't think the way to asking her to Hogsmeade is kissing other girls."

James sighed. "Peter, Peter, Peter. You have so much to learn. When Evans sees me kissing a girl passionately on the lips (preferably tall, blonde, and beautiful), she will be overcome with rage, and have a desire to swoop in and save me from the clutches of the evil seductress, and kiss me wonderfully, softly, lovingly—"

"That's what this is about?" Sirius asked incredulously. "Evans? Again? And I agree with Peter. Instead of kissing you, she'll probably kill you."

"Out of jealousy!" James protested. "And after she sees what she's done, she'll weep over my dead body and miraculously restore me to life with a kiss. Then, we'll get married and have five children, named Lily Junior, Daisy, Magnolia, Jasmine, and Harry."

"Harry?" Peter asked under his breath.

"No, no, no." Sirius said. "James, you are my best friend, brother in all but blood, co-conspirer, but this is the worst idea you have ever had."

"No, Sirius." Remus spoke up, smirking. "This is a wonderful idea! Wouldn't it be great for James to kiss many girls on Valentine's Day, sending Lily into a fit of madness?"

"See?" James replied, grinning. "Remus agrees with me now. He sees my logic! This will be great. Trust me." Seeing Sirius's disgruntled expression, he added, "And you can get some action too! I'll pass the girls onto you!"

Sirius sputtered, and attempted to convince James again, but he was already lost in la-la land. Instead, he mimed cutting off his head, and mouthed to Remus, "You are so dead."

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Despite the arguments made by Sirius and Peter to sway James the week before Valentine's Day, there was no progress made. James remained steadfast to the idea of a kissing booth, and spent the week doodling _Evans+James forever _in his History of Magic notes (covering up almost all of the information on Urg the Unclean).

Valentine's Day dawned bright and early, with James jumping on their beds and shouting, "It's here! It's here! Today I will win the heart of my lady love!" (Peter then threw a pillow at him, which caused James to fall off of his bed and sparked a fit of muffled laughter in Remus and Sirius).

Being a Saturday, there were no classes, so most of the students took their time at breakfast that morning. At about nine in the morning, a huge cluster of owls flew in, carrying many packages, most of which were tied neatly with pink and red ribbon. The hall was instantly filled with squeals, sounds that sounded remarkably like kissing, and a few stray tears which inevitably evolved into full-on sobs.

At ten in the morning, James climbed onto the table, and cleared his throat. "Greetings! As most of you are aware, I am James Potter, handsome Quidditch star and all-around wonderful person."

"Mr. Potter!" Professor McGonagall barked. "Sit down this instant before you fall off the table!"

James ignored her, though, and continued. "Today is Valentine's Day, as you all know. A day of love, happiness, and joy. And I take great pleasure in bringing joy to others. From eleven to five today, I will be holding a kissing booth in the Gryffindor Common Room. The password is Eros. All possible customers will be inspected at the door, and proceeds will go to charity. All you ladies, it will be me and my friend Mr. Black in at the booth, and only ten Knuts for a kiss!"

"Mr. Potter! Twenty points from Gryffindor!" McGonagall shouted again, but the hall was already abuzz with chatter. Dumbledore had turned to her, and it looked as if he was trying to reason with her. Finally, she shook her head, and seemed to give in to Dumbledore.

"Eleven to five!" James announced again. "Ten Knuts a kiss, my friends! You won't see a deal like that anywhere else!"

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So, any good? Should I continue? Feedback?


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: The response to the first chapter was overwhelmingly positive, so I guess I'm continuing! I'm trying to get in a chapter each day, and so far I'm on track. Thank you all for your wonderful reviews, favorites, and follows!

Disclaimer: I forgot it last chapter, but just in case you don't know, I don't own Harry Potter.

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At ten to eleven, the Gryffindor common room was already packed with people. True to James's word, there were two fourth years guarding the Fat Lady's portrait, checking over each possible patron and then letting them in. James himself was still getting ready (or, as he put it, "Spiffing up to win my love!"), but a still-annoyed Sirius was at the booth (transfigured from an armchair, whose unfortunate pink-and-green pattern had transferred onto the booth), attempting to hold back the crowd of girls.

"Hello, Black," Marlene McKinnon said, sauntering up to the booth and bypassing a long line of girls, many of whom muttered discontentedly at her blatant barging in.

"Marlene," Sirius replied, nodding. "Please don't tell me that you want to kiss James too."

"Jealous?" she smirked. "No, I'm here to watch Potter make a fool out of himself, and then I'll laugh. A lot. Don't worry, I'm not interested in kissing either of you. You weren't worth a Knut, let alone ten of them."

"Thank you for your remarkably helpful and wise input," Sirius sighed. "Remind me, how are you a _Gryffindor _again?"

"Well, as the Sorting Hat said, I don't have a bone of ambition in my body, so I got stuck with you. On that note, it seems like Potter's finally decided to grace us with his presence."

Sirius looked to the top of the staircase leading to the boys' dormitory, and sure enough, James had walked out, his hair temporarily tamed with hairspray and gel.

"Hello, my fellow students!" James shouted. "I declare the kissing booth officially open!" As soon as James had gotten behind the booth, there were dozens upon dozens of brown coins being shoved into the face of Sirius, who was desperately trying to maintain order. Marlene was still leaning onto the booth, and was watching the antics of the crowd with an amused face, as if she was gazing at animals in a zoo fighting over a piece of food.

"Ladies, ladies!" James shouted. "There's enough of me for all of you! Single file line, please. Single file!"

At each customer, Sirius would take the girl's money and deposit it into a small box he had quickly transfigured from a tube of lipstick (he didn't want to know how it had gotten on the floor). James would give each girl a quick peck on the lips and a thank you, to which the girl would run off, blushing.

By twelve thirty, Sirius had become extremely bored, and was drumming on the booth with his wand (Marlene had stolen a copy of _Witch Weekly _from her roommate Mary MacDonald, who was an avid reader of the magazine, and was flicking through it idly, occasionally commenting on something she found particularly insulting or annoying.).

Fifteen minutes later, Remus and Peter finally showed up, and to Sirius's displeasure, they looked extremely proud of themselves for abandoning him to a lovestruck James and hordes of screaming teenage girls.

"Where were you two?" Sirius demanded as soon as they approached the booth. "No, I don't want to know. You two have made yourselves a formidable enemy."

"Please, Black," Marlene said, standing up from the stool she had been lounging on. "Don't worry, Pettigrew, Lupin. Sirius here has been bemoaning the disappearance of you two for two hours, and he's _very _glad to see you."

"Thank you for the explanation, McKinnon," Remus replied coldly. With a warmer tone, he said to Sirius, "Sorry. Pete and I had to talk to McGonagall about the kissing booth, since James decided to leave after his announcement." Rolling his eyes, he continued. "We managed to explain to her that James wouldn't be doing anything "inappropriate" and that this was all for a good cause."

"You owe us for that one," Peter said accusingly. "She gave us a talk on "not growing up too early" and told us not to do anything "risky"."

"Yes, yes," Marlene said. "All good and jolly for you two. Now, go comfort Black. He looks like he's close to tears after being left behind by you."

"No, I don't," Sirius grumbled, but he perked up slightly after Remus took over the cash box for him.

Half an hour later, they had gone through about a quarter of the line, and Bertha Jorkins stepped up to the booth. She gave Remus two Galleons, to which he responded that the fee was only ten Knuts, and to wait patiently while he gave her change.

"No. I want a hundred kisses," Bertha explained. "And, like, I can choose who I want to kiss, right?"

"I'm sorry," Remus replied. "You said you wanted a hundred kisses?"

"Yes," she said. "A hundred, and from him over there." She pointed a finger at Sirius, who gulped.

"Um, I'm not exactly sure that's the best idea," he mumbled, but a smirk was slowly forming on Remus's face.

"No, no, that's a wonderful idea!" Remus said, looking chipper. "Thank you, Bertha, for your generous donation. My friend Sirius will be so honored to kiss you _a hundred times_."

_Remus Lupin was going to die. Painfully. _Sirius gulped, and leaned over the booth to peck her on the cheek. She turned her face, though, quickly, and he ended up on her mouth. She grabbed his face and smashed his lips against hers, looking as if she was trying to swallow him whole. Finally, when it seemed as if she was trying to use tongue, he pulled away, gasping for breath.

"Okay, Bertha," he said, looking a little green. "I think that's enough."

She frowned for a second, but then smiled. "Okay, Siri-kins! I love you!" She skipped off, and Sirius groaned.

"Tough luck, mate," James said, clapping him on the back. "Still, at least you won't be single on Valentine's Day now. Lily still hasn't come to the booth." He looked grim, and almost defeated. "There's still about three hours left, though, and I want to make good use of that time. And it's a leap year. That ought to count for something, right?" He looked like he was trying more to convince himself than anything, though.

_Ah. _At least James wasn't happy, either. Sirius could still taste Jorkin's bubblegum lip gloss. Remus was still smirking, and Sirius started plotting ways to make him die (at the top, have him kiss Evans and leave him to James's mercy). Right now, Peter was the friend who had offended him the least.

Marlene, who had disappeared for a brief time, was back at two thirty. "So, Black," she started, "Gotten any lip action yet?"

Sirius groaned, and put his head on the booth. Peter shook his head at him mournfully. "Bertha Jorkins lay one on him when you were gone."

"That's sad," Marlene replied. "The only person willing to kiss him is Boring Bertha? I would have thought he'd gotten some from Lupin."

"I am Remus's friend," Sirius said, picking his head up from the booth. "Just like you and I are friends, and me and Pete are friends. Emphasis on _friend_."

"Friend?" Marlene asked. "Aww, I'm so honored. I don't think friends kiss regularly, though."

"What?" Sirius said, alarmed. "Remus and I haven't kissed yet." Then, realizing what he'd said, he backtracked. "I mean, we haven't kissed at all. Ever. _Ever._" He looked around to make sure Remus wasn't listening, and blushed at Marlene's knowing look.

Peter laughed. "I think you've just dug your own grave, my friend."

Sirius glared at them. "I hate you." Picking up the cash box, he hugged it. "Boxy, you are my new best friend. Oh, Boxy, you will be so much better than James or Peter or Remus or Marlene. Won't you be my friend, Boxy?"

Looking at him, Peter whispered to Marlene, "I think we've broken him."

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Marlene is really fun to write. On a side note, the "one hundred kisses" thing was inspired by the Glee Rachel (Ah, Finchel). Yes, I ship Remus/Sirius. Next chapter, there will be Jily. Lots of it, I promise you. Feedback on this chapter, story, or just a thought?


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: This didn't come out as long as I wanted it to be, but Lily finally shows up! And yes, this fic has somehow switched over to Sirius's point of view, against my attempts to keep it in general third person.

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Do I look like J. K. Rowling to you? (Wait, don't answer that. I don't want to know if you've secretly installed a camera and am somehow watching my every move.)

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By three o'clock, Sirius has made a mental note to never partake in one of James's schemes again, even if it means giving up pranking forever (they haven't pulled off a magnificent prank in a while now, anyway, ever since James came to the conclusion that he did not simply fancy, but was in love with Evans four months ago, and that pranks were "immature and the wrong way to win her heart". Sirius had to resist the urge to tell James that this kissing booth was even more idiotic and immature than fart jokes, and this would lead to her slapping him, not giving him her love forever.).

Since Bertha Jorkins laid one on him an hour ago, every girl in the seemingly never-ending line has decided that he is fair game as well, and Sirius is being given James's sloppy seconds. James has also forced him to brush his teeth every ten minutes, because "No one wants to taste your lunch, Sirius." (he can't exactly help it when Peter, Remus, and Marlene are all chowing down on roast beef and pumpkin juice while Sirius has to settle for _breath mints_).

He feels like a prostitute. A male prostitute that's making less than an unpaid ministerial intern and only kisses people (so it isn't the best comparison. He doesn't care.). All the girls are way too eager to pay money to kiss someone, and they all seem to have the twisted idea that one kiss will make him fall madly in love with them.

That's not to say that there aren't any nice ones, of course. Hestia Jones pecked Sirius on the cheek and asked him, blushing, if Peter would go to Hogsmeade with her tomorrow (he would). A fifth year wished him good luck with the charity they were raising money for (which made him feel guilty that this would all be going to the Marauders Foundation for Trivial Things).

"Why so glum, Black?" Marlene asks him after his twenty-something kiss. "Potter still isn't tired, and he's been doing this a lot longer than you have."

"If it's so easy, why don't you do it?" he snaps at her.

She looks taken aback for a second, and Sirius sighs.

"Sorry, sorry," he says. "And the reason James hasn't given in to despair is that he's still holding out hope that Evans will come riding in on a rainbow unicorn and be his pretty little princess forever."

"It looks like that wish is going to come true, then," Marlene says, pointing to a flash of red hair. Sure enough, it's Evans, in all her fiery Prefect-badged glory.

Luckily, it's Remus and Peter, not Sirius, that face the brunt of her rage first. "Remus, how could you allow Black and Potter to do this?" She shouts. Sirius wants to protest, because _hello, _does it seem like he wanted to be part of this? "And Pettigrew, I thought you were _nice_." Peter looks ashamed of himself, and Sirius wants to hug him (he knows all too well how horrible a scolding, to put it lightly, given from Lily Evans can be).

Remus is, however, quite possibly the smoothest person Sirius has ever met, so in a voice oozing with charm, he says, "Lily, you know I wouldn't have willingly agreed to this, and neither would Peter. It's just that, well, Sirius and James made such a convincing case, you know?"

Yes, Remus Lupin will be dying tonight. Maybe not Peter, though. He could always do something more horrible to him, like throw out all his fudge flies.

And Evans has officially turned to Sirius. "_You_," she practically screams into his ear. "You and Potter are taking advantage of poor girls, and forcing them to pay for harassment!"

_He's_ taking advantage of girls? Did no one see what Bertha Jorkins did to him?

"Evans," he replies, in a faux-calm voice, even though he's quite sure he will be pulverized sometime in the next few seconds. "Are you jealous of all the girls that are lining up to kiss James? You? Miss Perfect Prefect?" And yes, he has just signed his own death warrant, but it's worth it to see Evans's face turn a shade of red that is completely unhealthy.

"I. Do. Not. Want. To. Kiss. Potter." She practically growls. "I do not, and never will. Every other girl is simply deluded by Potter's many charms and ploys, and they will come to realize their mistakes one day."

"So you admit he has charms?" Sirius cocks an eyebrow, as if he hasn't heard every word of her lengthy and frankly impressive argument. Suddenly, he's aware that the common room has fallen silent, besides the sound of Marlene's quiet snickering, and all eyes are on him and Evans.

Evans has her wand in her face now, and looks as if she's about to hex him very painfully. Luckily (or probably unluckily, since every illusion of good luck Sirius has experienced today has turned out for the worse), James pops up at that very moment.

"Evans!" He says, running a hand in his hair in an attempt to make it look normal (something that will be as likely as Evans running off and having twenty children with James). "What brings you here this fine day?" It is decidedly not fine outside, as the clear weather of the morning turned into pouring rain an hour ago, but James doesn't seem to have noticed that.

"Potter, you are the most despicable, arrogant person on the face of the earth!" Evans is screaming even louder now, if that's possible. "This—" she gestures at the kissing booth "—is the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed!"

"So you didn't come here to kiss me?" James asks obliviously, looking crestfallen. Sirius has an urge to close his eyes, because he can almost see what is going to happen next.

_Slap_. The sound echoes around the room, and Evans looks almost startled at what she's just done. There is silence again, but this one is shocked, almost painful.

Peter is the first one to speak, weakly whispering to Sirius, "So I guess you were right about the slap, huh?"

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So, cliffhanger/not really cliffhanger. Somehow, I'm still on my one chapter a day goal! Feedback, review, favorite, follow, etc?


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: So I lied (well, not really, if you count Lily blowing up at everyone Jily). _This _is the Jily chapter (at least, I think so). Happy reading!

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Sirius, despite being raised by parents who were blatantly anti-muggle, anti-muggle born, anti-halfblood, and anti-everything-but-pureblood-non-blood-traitors, has watched movies before, and by going with movie logic, he supposes that this would be when all hell breaks loose, with blood and gore galore.

Fortunately, this is not a movie. Instead, what happens is that the common room still stays completely silent, as if no one has heard Peter's awkward comment (Peter doesn't attempt to repeat what he said). Further deviating from movie logic (or maybe not. After all, Sirius has only watched a handful of horror and action movies), instead of Evans doing something even more violent and anger-fueled, she bursts into tears.

James, although he has a prominent red hand mark with five distinct scratches on his cheek and absolutely no knowledge whatsoever on how to deal with bawling girls, is actually attempting to _comfort_ Evans.

"Hey, hey," he says to her. "The slap wasn't that bad. Your nails weren't that long. I've had worse from, um, Sirius!"

Sirius has just added James to his kill list, because does he look like the type to _slap_ someone? Spells are a whole lot more impressive, and besides, his nails aren't long enough to do any real damage.

Evans doesn't look a whole lot impressed by James, either, as she's actually crying harder now.

James tries a few more words of comfort, but as most of them are of the variety "I'm not actually that hurt, but hey, do you want to maybe kiss me to make up for it?", Marlene takes charge.

"Pettigrew, you take Potter to the infirmary," she orders. "His face is going to start bleeding any second now, and I don't think the house elves want to clean his blood off the carpet. Lupin, you take Lily somewhere and read her romance novels, or whatever it is you girls do together. Black and I will stay here and continue this kissing booth thing, since Potter will probably actually die if we close it down."

This arrangement seems to please no one but James, who looks at Marlene gratefully (for not letting him bleed to death? Continue to force Sirius to be assaulted by girls?). Everyone follows her commands, though, even as Remus mutters something unsavory under his breath about dictators and Peter tries to walk as far away from James as possible ("This shirt is _white_, James. Do you know how hard it is to get bloodstains out of clothes?").

Now that Sirius is officially the only person at the booth, since Marlene has appointed herself the "money woman", the line of girls seems to have gotten even longer. The only comfort is that the booth has to close at five, and he keeps a steady mantra in his head of _ninety minutes to go, eighty minutes to go, seventy minutes to go, an hour to go. _

"Ten Knuts," Sirius says to the next girl, not bothering to look up (he wonders if he could get away with a kiss on the cheek, but most of the girls he's tried that on turn their head so he gets their lips instead).

"I'm flattered, Black, that you would want to kiss me, but I wouldn't do that even if it meant you would die," a cold voice says.

"Snivellus," Sirius growls. "You—"

"I didn't exactly plan on witnessing another cat fight today, but by all means, continue!" Marlene interjects. For once, Sirius is almost grateful for her annoying and usually insulting comments, as long as it keeps him from hexing Snivellus into oblivion for the next five minutes (he really doesn't want another Saturday night scrubbing the Potions classroom).

"How did you get in here?" Sirius asks, his hands gripping the table. _Let's see, how would Snivellus look with a greasy beard as long as Dumbledore's and spots covering his face?_

"Potter's little door-greeters aren't exactly the most intelligent," Snivellus replies, sneering. "They can't seem to tell the difference between green and blue."

"Would anyone ever mistake you for Ravenclaw?" Sirius shoots back. "I mean, I wasn't really sure if you had any brains at all."

"Very witty, Black," Snivellus replies. "I'm sure you'll be Minister of Magic one day with those smarts."

Sirius tries to recall the spell to cause a person to relieve their bowels on the spot. Examenti? No, Exomento. Wouldn't that be a sight, Snivellus soiling his pants in front of all the girls in the school.

"All right, break it up," Marlene says lazily, seeing Sirius's expression. "As entertaining as this conversation has been, I don't want Potter and Evans 2.0. Snape, why are you here? As much as it would pain me to kick you out, I don't think provoking people is a legitimate reason for you being here."

"Lily," Snivellus says shortly. "Avery told me she was crying, and I've come to pick her up."

"If you've forgotten, Snivellus, Evans is a Gryffindor, so she shouldn't have to leave—"

"Just let him take her," Marlene says, waving her hand in the air. "I don't think even Lupin should have to keep being subjected to her crying."

"_Thank you_," Snivellus replies, glaring at Sirius. "Where is she?"

"Boy's dormitory," Marlene says. "It's only Lupin that's up there, so you shouldn't see them doing anything but reading _Witch Weekly_ together or something."

Snivellus follows Marlene's directions, and five minutes later he's outside with a still-sniffling Lily Evans, rubbing circles on her back and quietly talking to her (Sirius has to grudgingly admit that he's better at comforting people than James, but it isn't as if that's some large feat).

He sees Evans turn to Snivellus and say something he can't quite make out to him, to which he sighs and nods. A few moments later, she's running over to Sirius.

"Um, Black," she says awkwardly, "Can you maybe tell Potter that I'm sorry? For slapping him, and well, everything."

"Sure," he replies. "In your defense, though, James kind of deserved it."

She gives him a half smile, then walks away quickly back to Snivellus. He watches her leave, and figures that Evans might not be _that_ annoying a person as he thought she was.

"Well," Marlene says, "Now that a crisis has been averted, I think it's time for you to get back to work, Black!" Sirius sighs, and looks to the still-long line of girls. _Fifty minutes to go, forty minutes to go, thirty minutes to go..._

o0o0o0o

After Sirius is finally through with the line of girls, it's six already (Marlene forced him to finish kissing every girl in the line, even as he protested that the booth was slated to close at exactly five). She made Remus come out and help him, too, since "You're like a skinnier, brown-haired version of Potter that's swottier and more boring.".

"Do you think we should go check on Peter and James?" Remus asks. "Peter's probably had to listen to James recite the starting lineup of Puddlemere United ten times now."

Sirius agrees with Remus, and Marlene reluctantly comes along, "Just to make sure Potter hasn't died yet.".

"Thank Merlin!" Peter cries when he sees them. "Where have you been? The booth was supposed to close an hour ago!"

Sirius and Remus look at Marlene, who tries her best to pull off the "innocent" look.

"You know what, I don't want to know," Peter decides. "James is over there."

Sure enough, James is sitting on a white bed, the left side of his face bandaged.

"Hey," he says. "Pomfrey said that she healed me as best as she could, but to keep this thing on my face just to make sure it doesn't start bleeding again."

"It was kind of cool, actually," Peter explains. "His face just started gushing blood all of a sudden. It was like a fountain or something."

"Person in question right here," James says. "And it was not "cool". It actually hurt. And how was it like a fountain? Did Evans stay afterwards?"

"She did," Sirius replies. "By the way, she said to tell you that she was sorry about slapping you."

"She did?" James asks, eyes bugging out of his head. "She said sorry?"

"It's kind of the polite thing to do when you bodily injure someone," Marlene says, but James ignores her.

"Sorry," he breathes out. "She apologized. I need to remember this moment forever."

"Oh!" Remus exclaims. "I almost forgot. While I was talking to Lily, she gave me this." He digs something out of his pocket, and gives it to James, who's eyes seem to become even bigger, if it was possible.

"A Sickle," James sighs. "She gave me a Sickle. This is the happiest day of my life. Do you not see the implications of this Sickle? She wanted to buy kisses from me! She did!"

"Um, no, actually," Remus says. "She was going to use it to buy a card for Mary MacDonald's birthday. It just so happened that she felt sorry for you and wanted it to be an apology gift. And a bribe to stop you from asking her to Hogsmeade five times a day."

"Mate, we've lost him already," Peter says. "He's probably planning their wedding in his head now."

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This is the last official chapter, but there's still an epilogue to go! Feedback, review, favorite, follow?


	5. Epilogue

A/N: So, really late epilogue, but at least I wrote one, right? I'm not really sure if this qualifies as one, but oh well. This chapter was somewhat inspired by my love of scones, cultivated during my trip to London a few months ago.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Or scones (unfortunately, in both cases).

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"...ten, eleven, twelve," Remus finishes. "We made nineteen Galleons, six Sickles, and twelve Knuts in total."

"That's good, right?" Peter asks hopefully. "How many tickets to the Cup can we buy with that? Four? Five?"

"Try half a ticket," Remus replies grimly. "We'll need to get about a hundred forty more Galleons somehow to sit in the worst seats where you'll probably get knocked out by a Bludger."

"That actually doesn't sound too bad," James says. "I heard you get to keep the Bludgers since the league can't use any items with blood on them in official games again."

"Really?" Sirius leans in eagerly. He makes a mental note to buy all the cheapest tickets to Quidditch games from now on.

"Oi," Remus says, annoyed. "We can't buy any tickets at this point. I think we should just reconsider going to the 1982 Cup instead—"

"No," James says forcefully. "No, we are going to the Cup, and we will get enough money to go to it. We just have to brainstorm more fundraising ideas, that's all."

"No more kissing booths," Sirius says quickly. He's probably going to come down with mono in a week already.

Peter and Remus voice their agreement, and James gives a long-suffering sigh. "Well, do you have any better ideas?"

A long silence follows, with occasional yawns from Peter and chewing sounds from Sirius's direction, which James notices after a few minutes, despite Sirius's attempts to hide them.

"You're eating something!" He cries gleefully. "You know the rules, Siri! One Marauder's food is every Marauder's food!"

James practically jumps onto Sirius to get to the aforementioned piece of food, and a brief wrestling match commences, with Sirius eventually gaining the upper hand.

"Sirius's food is his food only! Say it!" Sirius says, sitting on top of James. "Say it or I'll hex you!"

"Siriusfoodsonly," James mumbles. "Now gerroff me."

"Close enough," Sirius shrugs, picking up the scone, which had fallen onto the floor during the scuffle, and taking a large bite out of it. "Mmm, strawberry."

"Wait," Peter says, peering at the scone. "Where did you get that?"

"Nowhere," Sirius replies, attempting to hide Peter's open trunk behind his body.

"You can't get food from 'nowhere'," Remus says, being completely unhelpful. "It's a complete violation of Gamp's Law of Transfiguration."

Sirius glares at him. "Don't be so literal."

"No, I recognize that scone," Peter says, ignoring both of them. "Strawberry and cream, nicked from my trunk, made by my _mother_."

"Scones are everywhere," Sirius tries. "Maybe I got a scone that looks exactly like the one you had."

"No, no, the house elves stopped making scones after you and James started throwing them at each other last March," Peter says. Bugger. Sirius had forgotten about that (he snickers as an image of a stunned James with clotted cream in his hair comes to mind). "That is _my_ scone."

"Peter, are you sure you want that scone?" James asks. "I mean, it's been in Sirius's mouth, and I don't think he's brushed his teeth in a week."

_You didn't seem to mind when you were practically mauling me for it, _Sirius thinks. And he has brushed his teeth; he just doesn't carry around breath mints like James does (something Sirius doesn't understand, because they aren't even the good kind that taste like lemons).

"That scone was sent to _me_, from _my_ mother, who only makes them _once_ every six months, and the scones have to last me at least two months, which isn't going to happen if you eat all of them! And you aren't even eating them the _right_ way, with tea!"

Sirius gulps. Peter looks downright scary right now, which he hadn't known was possible. Still, if he didn't give it to James, he's not going to give it Peter, even if it was his in the first place. He clutches the scone a little closer to him, and gives Peter his best _do you want to die_ look.

"Wait, wait," James says, interrupting Sirius and Peter's impromptu glaring contest (Sirius can't be sure who's winning, but since his own glare is scarier and more intense, he'll put a tally mark on his side of the chart). "You said you have _scones_? Like, multiple ones?"

"Yes," Peter replies warily. "Why?"

"And they can last you _months_? Which means you have a lot?"

"Yes?..." Catching James's expression, Peter adds, "You're not getting any of them. They're my breakfast for the next few months."

"Peter, my dear friend, help a brother, a _Marauder_ out..."

o0o0o0o

"Strawberry and cream scones, handmade by Peter's dear mother! Only nine Knuts each! Folks, you won't see a deal like that anywhere else!"

"Sirius, quit eating those scones, they're for sale! And they aren't even supposed to be!"

"Peter, I thought we resolved this already! I gave you all my Fudge Flies, remember?"

"Those scones had sentimental value, James!"

"And they'll mean even more when Evans falls in love with me after she takes a bite out of one."

"Sirius, I don't think that we should be selling Firewhiskey at a _bake sale._"

"Come on, Moony, lighten up! I've mixed it with Butterbeer, you can't even tell the difference!"

"That just makes it more alcoholic! You won't even drink it yourself! And you're trying to sell it to first years, do you want to get us expelled?"

"Fine, fine. Don't buy this, Mister Prefect here says it's dangerous!"

"I'm just trying to make a point that we shouldn't be selling Firewhiskey!"

"Hmm? Sorry, I couldn't hear you over the sheer volume of your killjoy-ness."

"Both of you, shut up. Evans is coming."

"Looking forward to another slap, Jam—_mmph_!"

"Hello, my fair lady. Scone?"

o0o0o0o

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